Untitled
by 28-characters-later
Summary: It's a textual intervention (uni-talk for fanfiction) of the fairy tale Bluebeard that after I handed it in, changed a few things because the main girl had the name I gave to my JeanMarco lovechild. There actually is a title for this but it was a joke title so I'm not using it, even though this pretty much is a bad joke. It's almost bad fanfiction of bad fanfiction
I need to say some things about this. It was for a class at uni: Textual Intervention (basically fanfiction the class) I had to do something with the fairy-tale, Bluebeard. I decided to modernize it.

This is proof I can't write heterosexuals. It reads like bad 50 Shades of Gray fanfiction. Which in itself is technically bad Twilight fanfiction. So it reads like bad fanfiction of bad fanfiction. Twice recycled shit. Because of this, as a joke I handed it in called 50 Shades of Toxic. The man in this is named Toxic because I used a humanization of a Transformers character of mine. The main female in this, I used Madison as a stand-in name, but liked it, so after I handed this in I changed a few things around to make it my JeanMarco baby. Armin is in here as her uncle, though not related by blood.

~*~…

Madison sighed heavily, glaring at the blank word document in front of her. Turning away from the unwritten essay, she instead started browsing online. Maybe inspiration would come from something there.

Aimlessly clicking on adverts and news stories, then moving on to Tumblr, she quickly lost track of time. It wasn't long before she was lost in YouTube videos. The flashing yellow light on the taskbar caught her attention. Madison opened Skype, to find a message from Bridget: 'What a loser, he can't even fill out a profile correctly.' Clicking the link caused a Zoosk Online Dating page to open: nothing appeared to be written, just a username and a profile picture. Madison raised an eyebrow at the username, Toxic_Desire69.

The profile picture was a selfie of a man in his mid-twenties, hair dyed blue, matching his icy blue eyes. The angle gave it the Mona Lisa effect, making it look like the man was staring right at whoever was looking at him from any angle.

Tearing her eyes away from the image, Madison opened Skype, sending 'and what were you doing on Zoosk?'

A reply came back instantly. 'I was just looking! I wanted to show a fail profile! He's _not_ going to get any dates with just a pic and _horrible_ user name!'

Madison snickered, though she let it drop. The brunette couldn't blame her friend for being interested, she was interested herself.

Creating an account, she sent the strange man a message.

Later that day, Madison washed the dishes for her fathers. She'd forgotten all about the profile she'd contacted earlier. That was until her phone buzzed alerting her she'd received a new message.

Checking the alert, it was a reply from that weird guy. The message was short and vague, a lot like his profile. 'Hey, meet with me and find out. Nice hair.'

Madison brushed her fingers through the long side of her side-undercut letting out a sigh. She had hoped he would have actually answered some of her questions. She was hesitant to meet with him, but she figured as long as it was in a public place it'd be fine. She responded with a time and date they could meet. Her family made sure to teach her basic self-defence, and in a public place others would come help if they noticed a young woman putting up a fight.

A few days later, Madison waited in the café section of a local shopping mall. She read one of the books her uncle lent her. It wasn't long before a voice spoke to her, pulling her from the book.

"Going from that haircut, you must be Madison." Madison looked up, meeting the familiar icy blue eyes from the profile picture. She gave an awkward smile and nodded. He seemed to look almost concerned. "Everything alright?"

"Oh, yes. I'm just not used to meeting people from online." He only responded with a toothy grin. "So do I get to know your real name now?"

Ignoring her question, he instead gave a jerk of his head behind him. "C'mon, lemme treat you for your first time, meeting someone online." There was a snicker in his voice as he said that.

Putting her book away, Madison followed him. She couldn't lie, she was curious about this man; though she didn't like he ignored that question. Maybe she could work his name out of him from conversation. "So I guess that was a recent picture." At his questioning side glance she pointed to her own hair. "Your blue hair."

He laughed. "Oh, yes. I like the colour. I used to have a blue beard as well, but I had to shave it after an unfortunate … misunderstanding."

Madison raised a brow at his wording. He talked so formally. It didn't fit someone with messy blue hair sticking out from under a beanie. Or someone with a screen name like _Toxic_Desire69_. There was something very … off about him. Then again, she reasoned, one of her own fathers still neatly combed his hair in an even part and only wore collared shirts. The way he talked might have just been a part of how he was raised.

Shrugging off his speech mannerisms for now, Madison continued her mission of attempting to casually chat an actual name out of him. "That sucks, anyone freak out over the change?"

The man shrugged, "If anyone did, it didn't matter." That was all he had to say. Madison started to get frustrated.

"So, any reason your username was Toxic_Desire69? Kinda cheesy for a dating site name." Madison mentally swore that if he shrugged and brushed it off she was going to hit him.

He shrugged. Madison felt like screaming.

"It seemed fine for a site like that. It got you to contact me, didn't it?" He turned to give her a smug smirk.

"Fair enough," she muttered through her teeth before continuing louder, "So what are you called in person?"

"That name's fine."

"I'm _not_ calling you that in person." Madison stared at him in disbelief, wondering if he was serious.

"You can shorten it to Toxic if you prefer."

"What's wrong with your actual name? Is it super embarrassing or something?" Madison crossed her arms. She was still following him wherever he was leading her and she was starting to rethink this whole thing.

"You could say that. It's not important." 'Toxic' seemed to have kept track of every step the two of them took, as shortly after that he opened a door, standing to the side. "After you, my dear."

All Madison could do was stare. Someone telling her to call him 'Toxic' was holding the door open for her. She shook her head of the oddity and entered.

It was a bar. Classy. Madison rolled her eyes. "Wow, woo a girl why don't you."

He didn't respond, instead just led her to the bar and ordered a pair of drinks.

As they were handed their drinks, Madison sputtered slightly on the first sip of hers. Toxic didn't seem fazed though he pretended to be, fixing her with another concerned look. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah," she coughed, "just, stronger than I was expecting."

Toxic grinned into his own drink. "You'll get used to it."

By the third drink, Madison had to lean heavily on the bar counter to keep from falling from her chair.

"It seems like you've had enough, sweetheart," Toxic grinned over his drink.

Madison leant closer to him, pointing in his face. "I can hold my liquor just fine, I'll have you know," she slurred.

Toxic moved her drink to the side and pulled her stool closer. "Oh is that so? What else can you hold well?"

The question went unanswered as Madison soon found herself sitting on his lap. Even in the cloudy alcohol haze there was something not right about this. She opened her mouth to say something but soon found herself kissing him. She gave in, kissing him back.

After a moment Toxic pulled back, "Why don't we take this back to my place?"

Madison only nodded in agreement.

Toxic lay in bed, petting the tangled hair of the naked brunette lying next to him. She let out a groan, her head pounding. "Was I too rough for you, sweetheart?" There was a false caring in his voice. Madison attempted to speak but her voice cracked painfully. Instead she shook her head. "Good, I wouldn't want to break such a pretty girl."

The mobile on the bedside table began to buzz. Taking it in hand and sliding it into unlocked, Toxic skimmed through some texts as a scowl formed on his face. Rustling out from underneath the silky sheets, Toxic rose, stretched, and strode over to his closet. "I need to head out for a day or so. Something wrong in the office." He pulled on a pair of jeans and button-up shirt. Neat and tidy. He looked remarkably different from the animal last night.

Toxic made his way back to the bed, kissing the girl softly on the neck. "You're welcome to stay here."

She finally found her voice. "The secretive Toxic is going to let me stay here on my own?"

He grinned. "Of course. As long as you stay out of my basement."

That was odd, she thought. Madison sat up, making a hopefully playful grin. "That's just a horror movie line."

Toxic chuckled, bending to kiss her once more but first whispered in an ear: "I mean it, sweetheart. It's messy and dark down there, I wouldn't want you to get hurt." He then kissed her and pulled back. "I'll be back as soon as I can." And with that he left.

Madison waited a while, just to make sure he was really gone, before climbing from the large bed. Now was her chance to find out more about this mysterious man. Pulling on a bathrobe she started roaming the house.

Opening doors, and slipping soundlessly into rooms, Madison went through drawers and looked through closets. Nothing out of the ordinary. It was all very clean and …. Normal. Maybe she was just being paranoid. Not everyone was secretly some murderer, some people just lived privately. She felt guilty for intruding on that.

As she made her way back to the bedroom she stumbled across it. The basement door. Curiosity rose within her. Whatever he was hiding was just beyond that door. She shouldn't: it was like reading someone's diary, but she couldn't help it. She had to know, was this man truly what he appeared?

Trying the handle she sighed. Locked. Of course. At times like this she was thankful her uncle taught her numerous small skills, one of them lock picking. Sprinting to the bedroom, she lifted aside bits of clothing until she found her handbag. She rummaged through the tissues, wallet, and make-up. Snatching a few hair pins, she darted back to the basement door.

Madison bent one pin open and pulled off the little rubber bulb at the longer end with her teeth, spitting it out. She then slipped it into the lock, pushing it slightly to bend it a little more. Pulling it back out, Madison curved the other end into a rough handle. She bent the second hairpin into a vague J-like hook. Slipping that into the lower side of the keyhole, she inserted the other one above it. Keeping pressure on the barrel of the lock, she used the makeshift pick to forcibly lift each pin inside the lock until she was able to hear a soft click with each one. Finally she was in.

Opening the door, Madison felt along the wall for a light. There was none. Danm. Feeling her way down the stairs, slowly, she inched into the darkness.

It was the smell that hit her first. Sour, sweetish… rotten… and metallic. Her heart began to pound and her palms sweated, but something drew her on. She wanted to find out just what it was.

Coming to the bottom landing, she felt around for another light switch. Finally her fingers landed on one.

When light flooded the basement all she could do was stare at the scene before her. Every wall was filled with shelves. Everywhere! Shelves, neatly filled with row after row of big shiny glass jars containing body parts. Wide brown eyes darted all around the room. She wasn't even able to scream at the sight.

A door slammed from upstairs and her name was called. Shit. What was he doing back so soon? He must have forgotten something.

Grabbing one of the knives scattered across a table near the steps, she dropped it into her robe pocket, turned the light out and sprinted back up. She'd just remain calm, grab her things, and make something up. Maybe a sick family member had called, something like that.

As soon as she was out of the basement, she closed the door and made her way to where Toxic had been calling her.

"You're back early." She managed to keep the shake from her voice.

"Forgot something, where were you just now?"

"I, uh, kitchen, I was feeling hungry."

"Ah. Though, the kitchen is down _that_ hallway." Toxic replied, tilting his head to the left.

"Oh."

"Oh," he repeated. Madison brushed the knife handle in the pocket of the robe, ready to grab it.

"You didn't go into the basement, did you?" he asked suddenly.

Shit. "No, no of course not."

Toxic nodded once before striding up to her, taking her chin in one hand. "Good girl. I wouldn't want you to get hurt." With that he glided down the hallway. The one she'd just come from.

Once he was out of sight she ran towards the bedroom, throwing herself at her handbag. Fishing out her phone, she dialled the police.

Once the call was answered she was about to speak, when she heard heavy footsteps coming her way. She left the phone on for the call to be traced.

"You lying little slut!"

Toxic stood in the doorway, holding the hair pins she'd left in the door lock. He lunged at her. Acting without thinking, she fished the knife from the robe and plunged it into his side. When he yelped in pain, she shoved passed him and out of the room.

Running as fast as her legs would carry her, Madison ignored any odd looks she received from being only in a robe. She didn't stop running until she made it home. Panting, Madison slammed the door behind her, leaning against it before realizing that since it was unlocked someone must be in.

"Dad! … Papa!" She called out in a shaky voice.

"Madison!" It wasn't one of her fathers, but her uncle, who ran into the room. "They're out looking for you! Where were you last night?" As the blond embraced his friend's adoptive daughter, he took note of the robe she was wearing. "Maddie, what happened?"

Tears poured down the girl's cheeks while she told him everything: meeting up with the man, how secretive he was, how she must have agreed to go home with him, and finally what she found in his basement. "I grabbed the knife on the table… He - he lunged at me and I stabbed him with it." The words stumbled and stuttered out as she said them.

Armin stared, horrified, trying to think of what to do. He could always go and hide the body for her. But that was easier said than done. He didn't want to risk her going to jail because of this creep.

Getting his thoughts together, he finally spoke again. "Ok. What we're going to have to do is say it was self-defence. And it was."

Madison wiped her eyes and nodded. "My clothes and bag are still there."

"I'll get them." He wouldn't make her go back to that house. "Come on, into the kitchen. Everything's better with a cup of tea." Madison followed along, and sat down heavily at the table.

Armin put the kettle on and then grabbed his mobile: he needed to let his friend know Maddie was home. But with complications.

"Marco! Hi! …..Yes…Yes, she's home…..Um, yes, she's alright, but there's been some trouble….No, no, not a CAR accident….Um, no….Well, it's a long story. How close are you? Is Jean with you?...Call him. Yeah, it's something we need to deal with….Um, yeah. Bye."

The kettle boiled and Armin grabbed a mug and a bag of chamomile tea. He poured the water in, and walked the tea over to Madison. "Okay, your Papa knows, and I want to go get your clothes… Do you know where you were?"

"Um, it's a few miles away. I…it was…..I wasn't very sober last night….." Madison looked down at her cup. "Um anyway, I ran back here. I can try and work it out."

Armin smiled at her. "You do that, sweetheart. It'll be all right." He rummaged in the kitchen junk drawer. "Look, here's a pad of paper and a pen, why don't you write down what you can remember?" He set these beside her. "Your dads are on the way."

"Oh and, one more thing?" Armin added, putting his arm gently around her shoulders. "Good job. You're alive. That's the most important thing. You took care of yourself." Armin kissed the top of her head. Madison and Armin sat in silence, listening to the ticking of the kitchen clock, and waited for her dads.


End file.
